


Dancing Really Isn't So Bad

by Kay_Peaches



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Dancing, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Humor, M/M, Slow Dancing, Waltzing, Wedding Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-08-19 10:57:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20208628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kay_Peaches/pseuds/Kay_Peaches
Summary: When Crowley and Aziraphale are invited to attend the Device/Pulsifer wedding, they realize they need to step up and take a dancing class.





	Dancing Really Isn't So Bad

**Author's Note:**

> They say write what you know, and all I know is dancing and breathing.

Although the world had seemed to shift back into it’s normal, driving gear, Anathema didn’t think she would ever be able to forget about the events that occurred within just the few short days and hours she had spent actively saving the world. She would never be able to forget the four young children who rebelled enough to save everyone’s skins. She would never be able to forget the odd gay couple that clearly had a much bigger role in the whole situation than any of them could tell. She would never be able to forget madam Tracy and Sargent Shadwell. And, of course, she would never be able to forget her darling Newton.  
  
Almost all these people played an important role in her life, even if they all only had a short stint in her time on earth. Because of their importance though, she wanted to make sure that not only would they be attending her wedding to Newton Pulsifer, but that they would all be as integral to her wedding as they had been to saving the world.  
  
She sealed each invitation with a kiss and a note on the back to each person, asking small tasks of them. The children she wanted as ring and flower bearers, Shadwell would be a groomsman, and madam Tracy had already agreed to make the cake long before the young couple had even gotten engaged. As for Crowley and Aziraphale, she had a few more ideas.  
  
——————  
  
Although Crowley had said it many many times, Aziraphale could not even think about calling himself ‘retired.’ Retired from heaven, sure, for the time being, but his bookshop? Never! Just because Crowley himself didn’t have any sort of hobby on earth to take up most of his time, did not mean that Aziraphale had to be pulled into that laziness. Although, Crowley did seem to be extremely happy spending his ‘retirement’ - causing minor annoyances around the world, then spend his nights curled up in the angel’s arms.  
  
Which was where they found themselves that particular night, having a conversation about nothing, while nothing special played on the TV faintly, and hot drinks filled their mugs. Aziraphale had a stack of unopened mail that he was meticulously mulling through, and it was driving Crowley up a wall. He awed and oohed at every little piece of paper, regardless of if it was a letter from an old friend, or an advertisement for cologne.  
  
“All I’m saying is, sure, go ahead and be fascinated by how many colors printers can print these days, but stop getting so damn excited over taxes!” Crowley found himself sputtering, sinking deeper and deeper into the soft couch. Eventually he would be one with the furniture. “I made them to make people mad, not so you could have an excuse to pull out your calculator and do them all by hand. Not even the humans do the bloody taxes themselves anymore!” He was probably getting a little too worked up about taxes.  
  
Aziraphale couldn’t help the small eye roll that accompanied Crowley’s complaining. “Oh hush, you. You wouldn’t have even known about the taxes if I wasn’t opening mail right next to you, anyway.” The angel set aside the taxes for now, but he was already making plans to do them all night and all morning, and maybe all night and morning the next day, if needed! Crowley could sleep.  
  
“Oh dear, would you look at this?” Aziraphale tilted his head as he looked down at a cream colored envelope, their address… the bookshop’s address, was written on it with careful handwriting. As if the person sending the letter had pulled out a quill and ink to make the letter. “Anathema Device and Newton Pulsifer.” He used a metal letter opener that he had acquired back in the late 1800’s to open the small envelope. His careful and manicured fingers pulled out the handwritten letter along with the save-the-date. Now this caught Crowley’s attention.  
  
“Tuesday, August the twentieth.” He read aloud, “'Join us at noon at St. Dunstan’s in the East Church Garden as we join ourselves together in patriarchal matrimony. Small reception in the gardens afterwards.’ Oh, Anathema Device, she always had a … funny way of saying such things… I think.”  
  
“Oh well, can’t go. You know me and churches and all. Have a lovely time, angel.” Crowley was about to try and pry himself from the couch when, of course, Azirpahale had a comeback already ready to go.  
  
“I knew you would try and weasel your way out of this. The garden’s will be perfectly fine for you to stand on. Besides, I’m not done, there’s more.” Aziraphale had a feeling whatever was in this extra letter, Crowley likely wouldn’t want to hear it, but that was the polite thing to do. His eyes scanned the page quickly, just so Crowley wouldn’t have to stick around in uncomfortable agony any longer. Crowley should have known it was nothing good when Aziraphale’s face lit up like a Christmas tree, his smile ear to ear, and his fingers gripping the page. “Oh.. Oh, my dear! It seems they want me… ME to perform the ceremony for them! How delightful! I’m no priest, but I’m sure God will have no issues… or perhaps I should use another name on the documentation.” He laughed almost nervously. They were trying to keep their hands clean of all heavenly and hellishly interferences.  
  
“Yes, yes, very good. I’m sure you’ll make a very cute priest.” Crowley looked over at his love, his covered eyes hidden from the world, but they really indicated just how amused he was with the thought of Aziraphale in Clerical cloth.  
  
“I wish you wouldn’t say things like that.” Aziraphale may not be hands deep in heaven, but he was still an angel of God, and he didn’t take that very lightly. “You sound well.. almost demonic, if I do say.” With a shake of his head, indicating he didn’t want to hear any more about ‘cute priests,’ he continued to read the letter. “It seems Anathema and Newton have requested your participation as well, my dear boy.” A smirk began to spread across the angel’s face. It clearly didn’t seem right to have a demon as part of the wedding party, but a demon at the reception was too much fun. “They want you to be a .. well I’m not quite sure, it must be a strange new tradition for wedding receptions. It seems they want you to be a host of sorts, get the people invited drinking and dancing, and singing. That sort of thing.”  
  
Crowley was flabbergasted to put it lightly. He liked to think he was a fun guy, and getting people to drink would be the easy part, but the dancing?… And the singing? What was he, some kind of monkey? “Absolutely not! And you can write back to Anathema and Newton that they can shove their wedding right up their-“  
  
“COME NOW!” Aziraphale cut in. He wasn’t going to stand for Crowley making a mockery of a perfectly good wedding. Aziraphale could never seen himself participating in holy matrimony (mostly because his current prospect would likely burst into flames at the mere thought of fulfilling a holy sacrament), but he liked that the humans did this sacrament. It was cute, and the people all seemed to enjoy themselves so much when the big day would come around. “There must be something we can do to make this more enticing for you. Perhaps I will offer to supply the alcohol?” He knew Crowley would only settle for the best wines and whiskeys. “Or maybe you’d be more likely to accept the offer if I was right there with you.” Aziraphale seemed to light up at the thought.  
  
“What are you talking about, Aziraphale?” Crowley groaned inwardly. Clearly the angel was concocting some sort of plan, and Crowley didn’t think he had the mental capacity for whatever he was planning already. He downed the rest of his coffee and looked over at Aziraphale.  
  
“What if we were to dance together? Nothing extraordinary, just a simple slow dance, to get the people out of their seats. I can’t expect you to stand on any sort of dance floor alone, now can I?” Aziraphale explained. Thankfully, this little plan wasn’t nearly as bad as Crowley had originally thought it was going to be.  
  
The demon finally pulled himself from the couch with a deep sigh. “Alright, Aziraphale. I’ll dance with you, if it will make you happy.”  
  
“Extremely so!” The bright face that looked up at Crowley could have killed him had he been mortal.  
  
“Alright, alright. I’m going to bed...” Crowley grumbled as any ancient, terrible demon might. He placed a single kiss on his love’s cheek before dragging his feet to the bedroom he had insisted on installing in the small flat. “Have fun doing your taxes, angel.”  
  
  
——————  
  
  
The dance instructor Aziraphale had found was a short and thin woman who looked just as old as she was graceful. Which was to say she was an incredible dancer and instructor, just on the older side. At least Aziraphale thought so!  
  
The studio itself was fairly removed from the rest of Soho, rather on the outskirts of the area. The entrance was tucked away behind a fairly dark looking alley, which was very obviously hurting the poor old woman’s business. The area just wasn’t the same as it was when she first got the studio.  
  
Aziraphale had booked a private lesson, which she was happy to take on with her depleted schedule and resources. Even if she assumed they were a gay couple, she was hardly one to turn bright happy paying students away. She didn’t have anything against the gays, she was just surprised that they would want to take lessons from her.  
  
Currently, the three of them, this short dance instructor, the devil and the angel, stood together in the worn down studio, discussing what they could possible dance at the wedding. “Right. So…” The woman had been going through a list of dance disciplines that she thought would have been enticing to a gay couple, but she was being shot down at every turn. “No salsa then?”  
  
“No, I’m afraid not.” Aziraphale spoke up, rubbing his hands together almost nervously. This conversation was going no where, and their two hour lesson was growing shorter and shorter with each minute. Being an angel and demon, they really weren’t all that used to time constraints. “Much too inappropriate for a wedding.”  
  
“Oh COME ON, Aziraphale.” Crowley groaned. When he had agreed to go to a whole two hours worth of the dance lessons, he figured it would be an excellent excuse to put his hands all over the angel, and press their chests together intimately and move as one. Now he was starting to wonder if he would even be allowed to touch Aziraphale in their supposed couple dance. “Not even salsa?”  
  
“No, I don’t like the idea of … of, uh, grinding of any sort on the dance floor.” His face was beet red, and his right hand clutched his left just a little tighter.  
  
The dance instructor took a small breath and carefully crossed the entirety of Salsa off her list. If this round little man thought salsa was grinding, she may as well just take off half of all latin dances. “If you’re concerned about being indecent, then why don’t we just not even touch chacha, bachata, merengue, rumba, samba, and tango, too.”  
  
Aziraphale looked quite happy with this decision, but Crowley was less certain. “Oh, angel, the tango too?!” He could see the two of them performing a tango like they were in a movie - Crowley, the tall, dark, and mysterious beauty, and Aziraphale, the small, innocent angel. Both of them pressed forehead to forehead as they slide expertly across the dance floor, breathing the same air, and beating with the same heart. It was really too wonderful. “You’re killing me.”  
  
“I’m sorry, Crowley. I feel very passionately about this.” He straightened his posture, and tilted his head a bit higher before addressing the instructor again. He himself was wearing his typical outfit minus the coat. He figured they would be moving a little too much to be comfortable wearing his coat the whole time. “How about something a little more… traditional.”  
  
The instructor looked down at her list. “We could try a waltz, or a foxtrot. I think these would be the only options I recommend.” She hated to sound as if she was judging anyone before getting to know them, but this couple looked a bit on the elderly side, at least older than most couples preparing for a wedding, and she just decided to leave swing completely out of the picture. She was certain someone would break their hip.  
  
The angel seemed much, much happier with these two options. Clearly, his own mind worked similarly as Crowley’s. He imagined a beautiful 1930’s hollywood set, with dapper outfits, and crisp haircuts. The two of them dancing together not unlike Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers - just without all those crazy difficult moves. They would hold each other tenderly, stare into each other’s eyes, and remain a respectful distance apart. Oh! What Aziraphale wouldn’t do to see Crowley in a 1930’s hollywood suit and dance shoes, holding his hand out and politely asking Aziraphale to join him for the next dance. “Yes, yes, I think the waltz would be perfect!”  
  
Crowley was not as enthusiastic about this choice, but he had had enough talking. As long as he could hold Aziraphale in some sort of way, then he would be fine. Besides, the waltz had seemed like the easiest form of dance, compared to tangos and salsas. How bad could a simple three count be?  
  
Crowley was about to have his ass handed to him.  
  
  
——————  
  
  
“Water! I need some damn water!” Crowley’s voice cracked over the sound of the speakers playing a quaint and beautiful piece of waltz. “Turn off that horrible music, I’m begging you!”  
  
The older woman was at the speakers and turning it off in a matter of seconds. She thought they had been doing so well this time, watching the way they kept their arms up, their steps in somewhat sync, and were using a solid portion of the floor. This had been their longest rally as well - a whole two minutes before Crowley was begging for more water. She personally didn’t think she had made this private lesson particularly difficult, or stamina-needing, but maybe she was truly wrong.  
  
Aziraphale, for all he was worth, was fine. Aziraphale, however, was also no stranger to dancing. He had seen his lovey demon pop and sway and dance terribly for a short few seconds here and there, but perhaps being on earth, and sitting around doing practically nothing all day had made them both a little soft. “Really, dear.” He huffed, watching Crowley grab the wall as he clutched a water bottle. They both knew he didn’t really need it - the water was probably just the first thing Crowley could think of to relieve the heaving in his manufactured lungs. “You and I both know, I am not one for taking a jog, but perhaps you could use the exercise…”  
  
“The day I willingly exercise for the sake of being ‘healthy’ is the day hell freezes over!” He hissed. A hiss that the petite instructor thought looked all too genuine.  
  
“You would know all about that, wouldn’t you?” Aziraphale smirked. Crowley had no comeback for that, other than a few small grumbles. He just sipped his water until he decided that he was ready to continue.  
  
Crowley took his position again in front of Aziraphale, holding one hand delicately, and placing the other gently on top of the shorter man’s shoulder. “I probably wouldn’t be so exhausted if we could have danced something slower and sexier. I know how to do sexy - I have no clue what THIS is.” He looked between them, hoping he got across to Aziraphale that he thought the waltz was stupid.  
  
“Tangos are much more involved, dear boy. We would be no where near prepared for the wedding if we had done a tango. Besides, I quite like being able to look you in the eyes while we dance.” And just for shits and giggles, he gave Crowley one of his large, shit eating grins he liked to give. He knew Crowley couldn’t resist melting at the sight of such things.  
  
The two of them moved around the floor, Aziraphale leading with a strong hand on the small of his lovely demon’s back, and Crowley trying hard to focus on anything other than the fact that he was tired beyond belief. Their stepping wasn’t perfect, at least, Crowley’s wasn’t, which messed them both up. And also lead to a few times with Crowley’s foot being stepped on. The longer they danced, and memorized the step sequence, and held each other respectfully, the more Aziraphale felt like old hollywood. He didn’t typically care for American culture, but the waltz dances in those old movies had just been exquisite.  
  
“Don’t you feel grand, my love?” Aziraphale asked, a heavy and happy sigh on his smiling lips. “Don’t you feel like you’re dancing on a cloud, the whole world gone far away and it’s just the two of us?”  
  
“I guess.” He grumbled, similarly to as he had before. The truth was that he most absolutely did NOT feel like he was dancing on a cloud. He felt like his body was trying to stumble across a stage as his lungs were being fed through a clothing wringer. He just didn’t want to upset Aziraphale when he was very clearly happy.  
  
“Now you’re getting it!” Aziraphale gave a jolly laugh, his fingers drumming on the small of Crowleys back, as he lead them through the space. Until he finally decided that they had danced for long enough in the simple three step. He wouldn’t push the demon into trying anything fancy like a twirl, so he simply kept hold of his dear’s hand, and let go of his back. “You’ll step out now, just like that. Excellent!” He praised Crowley for picking it up so quickly, even if he still looked absolutely ridiculous. “We’ll keep holding hands as we smile at the bride and groom, and finally take our bow. Yes, quite!” He bowed, hoping Crowley would follow suit.  
  
The woman clapped immediately, her face beaming at their clumsy, imperfect dance. The important part was that they had made it through a whole dance without Crowley begging for water, or Aziraphale stepping on Crowley’s foot. All in all, a very successful lesson indeed!  
  
  
——————  
  
  
The wedding itself was a truly beautiful event that Aziraphale loved with every crevice of his heart. The way Anathema walked down the isle, the look on Newton’s face when she appeared before him, and the children all tossing flowers onto the ground around the alter. Everything was marvelous.  
  
Of course, Aziraphale loved showing off a little while giving the mass. In 6000 years on the Earth, he had never given a mass before, yet here he was, having the biggest honor he could have possibly been given. He might have hammed it up a little, and tried to do a magic trick here and there during the homily, but it was nothing Crowley needed to know about. “Life is like this here coin. One day, it will just DISAPPEAR! So it is a good thing Anathema and Newton have found each other to stick together - like these two seemingly normal silver rings!"  
  
The vows themselves had been edited slightly by Anathema, which was rather unfortunate, seeing as he had spent the past month learning and reading up all about marriage vows from the mid 1500’s when they first became a sacrament. He had been given about two weeks to learn the new vows and hope that he didn’t accidentally slip in a question or vow Anathema had requested be taken away.  
  
The lord forbid he ask that they will promise to have children. Asking questions like that seemed to be in extremely poor taste in these days. And God have mercy on him, if he accidentally said anything about wives following orders from their husbands. He personally didn’t care for those parts so much either, he just had been studying and memorizing SO much.  
  
Crowley wasn’t in the church, instead opting to just sit around the gardens, nibbling on the food he wasn’t supposed to eat yet, and sipping on a cocktail he wasn’t supposed to be drinking yet. He had been pretty upset that Anathema and Newton were even bothering to used the basic outline of a christian vow in the first place.  
  
For a brief moment, he wondered what his own vows to Aziraphale would be like. Would he promise to vaguely respect Aziraphale’s urges to do good on the condition that Aziraphale would pay him the same respects? They had already made an Arrangement of those sorts already. Vows without the marriage attached. Although there was something attractive about seeing Aziraphale in a pristine white suit, waiting to take his hand and ride off into the sunset with Crowley - but he would be caught dead before admitting it aloud.  
  
By the time the procession had left the church to join Crowley and the preparation staff in the garden, the sun was setting and soft bulb lights had flickered on to illuminate the tent that the reception would take place inside. What came next was a long, unending and boring, in Crowley’s opinion, march of speech after speech after speech after speech. Why did Anathema’s second cousin even need to make a speech?! This woman clearly had no idea who Newton was, and had said, IN HER SPEECH, that she hadn’t seen Anathema since before she left America!  
  
Oh, it was torture. Crowley didn’t like to eat, yet forced himself to shovel down a piece of fish after the fourth little old lady had come up to him saying, basically, “You’re too skinny! Eat something for heaven’s sake!” Had they been watching him all night to see if he was eating? Freaks. Aziraphale had changed out of the little priest costume, so he couldn’t even see his love in the getup once. After the speeches were over, a DJ had come out to turn up the music to an unbearable volume. If it had been GOOD music, then Crowley wouldn’t have anything to complain about - but complaining was his neutral state. The only thing getting him through the night so far had been the unending cocktail he had possessed his cup to make.  
  
A short 20 minutes after the music had started, Anathema had come up to Crowley with a wide but somewhat worried smile on her face. “Crowley, listen, Newt and I are going to be doing our first dance together in a minute, and as soon as that is over, could you start to get the crowd worked up? Get everyone on the dance floor?”  
  
Crowley had grumbled something to the effects of “fine” and Aziraphale looked absolutely ecstatic. This was the moment they had been practicing for! It was really too bad Crowley had been drinking himself stupid all throughout the speeches. “Are you ready, my darling? Shall I ask for your hand in a dance, or would you like to ask for mine?” Aziraphale asked almost nervously. He didn’t care about the answer, he just wanted to see if Crowley was capable of standing on his own two feet.  
  
“We’ll figure it out when it comes to that, angel.” He swatted a hand in the air as if a fly had been buzzing around his head. A meaningless gesture, but Aziraphale was still a little worried.  
  
The first dance between Newton and Anathema had come and gone fairly quickly. They had been the center of attention all night, and Aziraphale was sure they were eager to let someone else have the spotlight for two minutes. After the dance had finished and the crowd was clapping, the DJ spoke up. “Anathema and Newton would like to call their good friends Crowley and Azi-Azer- Azer-ay-fail to the stage, and they would like to encourage everyone come up and dance with their friends.”  
  
Crowley snickered at the pronunciation of his love’s name, but Aziraphale just huffed and dragged his mostly drunk demon to the small dance floor. They had made sure to inform Anathema that they would be dancing a waltz, and although the look on her face hadn’t been pleasant, she agreed to make sure the song would be slow enough for the couples to come dance with them. “Big smiles, Anthony.” Aziraphale grinned, hoping that using Crowleys chosen name would wake up him up enough to realize where they were.  
  
It seemed to work as Crowley’s bright red face snapped up to look at Aziraphale. He gave a halfway decent smile as he laid his hand on the angel’s shoulder, and took his free hand. The dance, from the audience’s perspective, probably looked fairly anti-climactic. The two older men stumbling around the dance floor, making themselves look like fools. No one other than the people they knew personally would have thought they were a couple, considering they had just seen this blonde man as a priest. The somewhat humorous side of the sight had brought a decent amount of couples to the floor, until no one was really paying attention to Crowley and Aziraphale.  
  
“You’ve done it, my love. You accomplished the job you were assigned. Everyone seems to be having a wonderful time.” Aziraphale spoke softly as they danced, keeping a firm hand on Crowley’s back just in case. “But more importantly, are YOU having a wonderful time?"  
  
Crowley tried to follow the moves their instructor had given them, but in his stupor, they mostly ended up just swaying together. “’s fine…” He muttered. “I’d still rather be tango-ing…”  
  
“And I’d rather be performing the gavotte, but we can’t all win. This was a nice compromise, and you look splendid in your suit.” Aziraphale let his gaze fall down to the black pinstripe suit that made Crowley look like a 1920’s hollywood gangster.  
  
“Newton’s mother has been giving me a hard time about not eating… who does she think she is? Telling me what I can and can’t do with my own … body.” He let his head fall forward a little, clearly hoping to find purchase on Aziraphale’s shoulder, but the angel was having none of that. He still wanted to do the dance as properly as possible.  
  
“You know she tripped on her dress, walking down the isle.” Aziraphale snickered slightly. Just because he was an angel, didn’t necessarily mean he was immune to humor. And the little remark seemed to amuse Crowley to no end, the laughs spilling out of his mouth were making Aziraphale fall in love with him all over again.  
  
The song finished and the angel stepped back to bow to his partner with a wide smile. Crowley hadn’t begged for water once during the whole song! It was just brilliant.  
  
—————  
  
Crowley and Aziraphale left the venue hand in hand, not particularly caring who saw, and what assumptions they could make about the pair. “You know, my dear, I was thinking it might be fun to go home and try out this… this tango you talk so fondly about.” Aziraphale offered with a sly smile.  
  
“Oh? Now you want to try it, do ya?” Crowley just laughed with a shake of his head. “Which way may I ask, would you like to tango then? Vertical or horizontal?” He had made the joke without 100% clarity of mind. He would have never had the guts to ask that type of thing sober.  
  
“Just for asking that question, we’ll be doing at least 10 minutes of the gavotte before we even watch a single tutorial about the tango.” Aziraphale spoke with a wide smile on his face. Nothing would ever be as attractive to him as watching his beloved Crowley dancing the gavotte.


End file.
